


And His Trusty Assistant

by Gemi



Series: Archivist Blackwood [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist!Martin, Assistant!Jon, M/M, Pining, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 12:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemi/pseuds/Gemi
Summary: Martin doesn’t know how he managed to get the job of an archivist. It is quite the upgrade, certainly, going from sitting in a cubicle sorting through the occasional files to…To doing the same, apparently.





	And His Trusty Assistant

Martin doesn’t know _how_ he managed to get the job of an archivist. It is quite the upgrade, certainly, going from sitting in a cubicle sorting through the occasional files to…   
  
To doing the same, apparently.   
Only this time the files are about spooky events, some of which are unable to be recorded on anything else but old recorders that Martin didn’t even know were still made. But instead of a cubicle he now sits in a room that should feel bigger but only feels tiny thanks to all the shelves packed full of files and folders and yellowed paper.   
  
There is even a_ typewriter_ on his desk that he haven’t gotten to removing yet. Mainly because it’s a small comfort, somehow, having it nearby. Martin doesn’t know why. He does, however, know he will gladly take any comfort he can take from this abrupt promotion.   
  
“Your tea,” Jon says, and Martin jumps as the cup is set down as abruptly as Jon’s appearance next to him.   
  
And there is _that_, too. Having assistants. Having _Jonathan Sims_ as an assistant. He makes tea. Tea for _Martin_.  
  
It’s not very good tea, but it’s tea made by Jon. For him. For _Martin_.   
  
“T-Thank you, Jon,” he says, accepting it, hopes his smile isn’t as awkward as he feels. Considering the pinched look on Jon’s face, though, Martin is pretty sure he failed. “Any more leads on the, uh, case zero-zero-seven-zero…. uh-”  
  
“One-zero-seven,” Jonathan finishes for him, clipped and curt and just enough on the edge of rudeness that Martin, for whatever reason, can’t help but feel fond of him, “Yes. A few Polaroid photos have been found which… lends to Miss Patel’s claims.” He looks like he sucked on a lemon saying that. The fondness in Martin’s chest swells.   
  
Tim is right. He _is_ an idiot.  
  
“Oh, good! Good, good, uh, can you give them to me by the end of the day?” Martin asks, cupping his hands around the cup. It’s warm, the steam wafting slowly upwards in curly, whimsical ways. Martin doesn’t have to look down to know that Jon gave it to him without any milk or sugar.   
  
He wishes he did look down, though. Because Jonathan is staring at him. Thick brows furrowed, his nose scrunching up to make a very tired looking frown.   
  
“You’re too slow,” Jon suddenly says, “You’ve only gotten through three files in nine days. We will never sort through the mess that Gertrude left behind if you don’t pick up some speed.”  
  
Martin blinks up at him.  
  
“I’m… trying?” he says, but Jon’s frown only deepens into a proper scowl. “I am!” Martin insists, turning in his chair to properly face Jon despite his instincts screaming at him to hide behind the cup of tea. “I promise, Jon. It’s just- it’s just hard. To know where to even start, there’s just a lot to go through, alright?”   
  
Jonathan opens his mouth, no doubt to say something rude and scathing. Except Martin sees him glance around the room. Taking in all the shelves, the files, the small pile Martin has slowly worked through that is sitting on what little free space there is on his desk.   
  
Jon closes his mouth and huffs.   
  
“Very well,” he says, and then gives Martin a small folder which he had somehow missed Jon was holding. “You don’t have to wait for the Polaroids, they are right here. Tim will be in shortly with information on Miss Patel’s medical records. No doubt got them from flirting,” he says the last part in a mutter as he looks away, and Martin has to bite down on a smile.   
  
“Thank you, Jon. Please don’t work for too long again,” he replies, because that is one bad habit which Jonathan indulges in a little too much.   
  
All he gets is a stiff nod before Jon leaves. The door creaks as it is shut gently but firmly. Martin looks down at his black tea, and let himself smile when he realize it’s in a red cup. His favorite cup, in fact.   
  
It almost makes it taste a little sweeter.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for this fandom and it's an au.... I'm not even caught up onto season 4 yet, oh dear.  
Thank you so much for reading!


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